<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Rippling the Pages by VisceralComa</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29246112">Rippling the Pages</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/VisceralComa/pseuds/VisceralComa'>VisceralComa</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Character Tags May Change, Gen, Hogwarts Era, Magical Realism, Modern Character in the Wizarding World, Mythical Beings &amp; Creatures, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Portal Fantasy, Pre-Hogwarts, Rating May Change, Self-Insert, Slice of Life, Slow Build, Tags May Change, Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It, Transmigration, Transported to the Wizarding World, Warnings May Change, Worldbuilding, though not actually inserting myself</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-05-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 11:00:16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>17,369</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29246112</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/VisceralComa/pseuds/VisceralComa</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Whether by mistake or someone's intent, she was released into a world she thought she knew - by the books she read and the movies she watched.  But none of it prepared her for living in the Wizarding World. Especially not in 1990 before Harry Potter even enters Hogwarts, and certainly not by arriving on the Ministry of Magic's front doorstep.</p><p>(Eventual Pairing Tags to be added)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>147</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Day 1.01: The Arrival</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>There were three things Raz knew for a fact.</p><p>One, she was in one piece.</p><p>Two, once she stepped out of the red telephone box it ascended beyond her reach.</p><p>With her method of arrival permanently gone into a sea of other similarly vandalized red telephone boxes, she eyed the long hall she had arrived in.</p><p>The floor was over polished, as though the people who did it had something to prove. The dark wood walls were lined with a plethora of gilded fireplaces set into them. Every few seconds the fires would blaze in brilliant shades of green and people stepped out of it with a soft whoosh. On the right-hand side was a short queue of people, seemingly waiting to depart through the fires.</p><p>The ceiling was peacock blue, inlaid in various gold alchemical symbols that moved and morphed into other letters and languages, as though it was a notice board. She didn’t register the notice when it finally switched to English, instead her gaze fell on the fountain with larger than life-size figures in the center of a circular pool.</p><p>Raz didn’t need to examine what they were to know it was a fallacy, a publicity stunt to appear united. But she could not stop herself as she walked amongst the crowd, ignoring the way sound fell away. Her breath quickened and heart raced the closer she got. She stopped in front of it.</p><p>“House-elf.” She trailed her gaze up the golden figures. “Goblin...centaur...witch…” And finally she landed on the male figure with a wand pointed up. “Wizard.” The adoring looks of the others were nauseating and false. A statue made to feed someone’s ego. A statue that cemented the final fact she knew.</p><p>Three: She was no longer in her own world</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>A huge thank you to LonelyAgain, AlyssumFlowers, GrumpkinVicky, and theh00ded1 over on the Portal Fantasy discord server for their long suffering aid on this project.</p><p>The plan is to post frequent and/or bursts of small chapters once a month for this. That...may change given offline circumstances.</p><p>Character tags will change as they reflect the current cast of characters that will be frequently seen across the current arc.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Day 1.02: The Cover Story</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Raz sat by the fountain, hand to her chest and breath heaving as she tried to calm down. With her head between her knees she gasped for breath at first, and held to the count of five before releasing much slower than that. She did it a few more times until a hand on her shoulder had her jolting away. She teetered on the edge of the fountain, nearly falling into the water.</p><p>“Woah, sorry there.” A man dressed in what looked like a security wizard’s uniform with a cloth lapel over his breast pocket where his name was displayed, Travins.</p><p>He gripped her shoulder tighter and pulled her away from the water. “Didn’t mean to startle you, miss. Are you alright?”</p><p>Raz blinked and then laughed. “Am I alright? Am I alright?” Her voice grew shrill enough that a few other workers looked their way before she lowered her voice. “I-I don’t… remember-”</p><p>A pop sounded next to them as a witch apparated in and rushed off. Raz barely managed to bite her tongue as she flinched away.</p><p>“Fuck…” Raz muttered.</p><p>“Oy! Use the clearly marked apparition areas! You’ll cause a splinching like that!” Travins barked after the witch as he turned his gaze away.</p><p>Which was just as well, because Raz needed a moment to think. Now that she wasn’t breathing herself into passing out, she had to think and fast.</p><p>What was she going to do?</p><p>She was in the Ministry of Magic, in the Potterverse. Clearly at least before Harry’s nonexistent seventh year if the vain display of false unity for a fountain was still intact. But she didn’t know when. If she asked what year it was, she would get odd looks. And she’d rather not be confused for a homeless person who managed to wander in. Or worse be mistaken for someone mad and be locked away in St Mungos.  She needed a plausible reason for the gap in her knowledge, for her apparent confusion as well.</p><p>“Sorry about that, Miss. Listen I need to escort you out as you’ve not got a visitor badge. Don’t know how you managed to get in-”</p><p>“Con-confundus…” she blurted out.</p><p>“Sorry? What was that?”</p><p>“Confundus charm. I was confunded.” For effect she squinted and muttered, “I think. I’m not sure- there’s…” She gestured with wiggling fingers at her head.</p><p>“And you decided the Ministry was the place to go?”</p><p>“Yes? I was confunded. My wand taken and I was mugged. And…” Even with all that, there needed to be a reason why she went for the Ministry first.  Her brows furrowed and she rubbed her temples. Not necessarily to sell the lie, though it did help because she was beginning to develop a headache. She tried to ignore the realization of where she was, a large part of her brain pleaded with her that this was just a very elaborate dream. “...they used a muggle item. I came to report it to the Office of Misuse of Muggle Artefacts.” </p><p>“Right, but you could have come here after visiting St. Mungos.”</p><p>“They took my purse. With all my papers and identification too. No way to be treated, not without currency...which they also took. And with no wand…Gringotts…” she released a deep sigh. “Sorry, I’m still a little…”</p><p>“Confused?”</p><p>“Yeah.”</p><p>The security wizard seemed to believe that much and took pity on her. Raz almost felt bad for taking advantage but she really didn’t want to be accused of being a muggle and have her memory obliviated and find herself in London during the 90s. Depending on the year she could be walking out to a full blown riot. There was also the matter that she would still be somewhere unfamiliar and worst yet with no ID. At least none that were valid yet. She had her driver’s license in the backpack she wore but that wouldn’t even be issued for another thirty-years.</p><p>“Right, well let’s get you a visitor badge and an escort then.”</p><p>“Sorry, what is the date?” she asked as he guided her to the security desk.</p><p>“They really did a number on you.” The security wizard whistled low.</p><p>Raz quivered her bottom lip and summoned up a glossy look of tears to her eyes.</p><p>“Hey hey.” Travins pulled her closer. “No need to cry, Miss. Come now. We’ll get you sorted out, get you new papers, and a report filed. Alright?”</p><p>Raz nodded while sniffing.  Wizard or not, men could hardly deny the crying face of a pretty woman. Not that Raz would boast but she knew she was at least attractive. Especially when she crossed her arms.</p><p>The security wizard got her a visitor badge, logged her in as having no wand so no security check was really needed. The escort he summoned with a flick of his wand was a younger security officer — clearly the newest one. “Escort Miss…” he looked at her.</p><p>“Sorry?” she blinked.</p><p>“Your name? Do you remember that?”</p><p>Raz stared at him. She weighed the pros and cons of using her real name. If they did look it up they might not find her or they’ll find an infant - depending on if past her existed at all within this universe. And it wasn’t like her name was common, even in the states. Would they even check American records? Given how antiquated and stuck in Edwardian times the wizarding world was they wouldn’t likely check much less check muggle records. Unless she gave them reason to. So she’d have to make sure she gave them no reason to.  Still it was always good to be safe than sorry.</p><p>“Mora…Moore. Raziel Moore.”</p><p>“Escort Miss Moore to the Office of Misuse of Muggle Artifacts and then to the Home Office.”</p><p>“Right? Any reason she can’t do it on her own?” The young officer asked with furrowed brows.</p><p>“She’s been confunded enough she asked me what date it was.” The original officer deadpanned.</p><p>The newer one frowned and looked at her with pity.</p><p>Any other time, Raz despised being looked at with pity. But this was an extenuating circumstance where she wasn’t even sure if she was awake much less actually here. </p><p>“Come along then. Best not to wait. I’m officer Puckett.” The young woman introduced herself. “You must have had a difficult morning then?”</p><p>“Er-yeah.” Raz agreed as she followed Puckett with a clipped rush.</p><p>They bee-lined toward one of the elevators underneath a rush of flying folded parchment papers. She tried not to gap at everything, and endeavored to keep her head down. They settled into the elevator with six others and once everyone announced their destinations, it rushed off — not immediately down or up. But sideways. </p><p>It reminded her of Willy Wonka’s factory. A lady’s voice announced each stop.</p><p>She gritted her teeth as she braced against the corner, holding her stomach. “Oh that’s no good.” She groaned and tried to settle the immediate nausea of motion sickness made worse because her headache was increasing in pain.  She looked for anything to focus on and settled on the wizards who muttered to each other about what a shame it was that Britain was defeated so early, but at least America also lost. One of them eventually noticed her looking.</p><p>“Was that an American accent I heard?” One of them asked once the elevator got a little lighter after two stops.</p><p>“Yeah?” She managed out.</p><p>“What do you think of the Scottish team’s chances given their victory against America?” One of them interjected.</p><p>“Sorry?” She blinked.</p><p>“You don’t follow quidditch?” They gasped.</p><p>Raz gulped. Quidditch. Right. It was almost blasphemous if you didn’t at least keep up with the latest score. </p><p>“No I keep up. Just don’t remember the...uh...score of the game.” She stuttered  out.</p><p>“She was confunded.” Puckett offered as an explanation beside her.</p><p>“Ah apologies.”</p><p>“Oh don’t. I’m sure had I heard the news I likely would have shared a fire whiskey or two, given our…” Raz forced a smirk. “…shared propensity for loud drunken celebrations. Even in commiseration.”</p><p>The two wizards chuckled and snorted with laughter, agreeing with her on that bit. Nothing quite like making a subtle xenophobic comment to convince others around her she belonged.</p><p>They continued discussing quidditch, this time drawing on Puckett’s own opinion, leaving Raz out. Which was just fine with her.  She was a little too busy trying to keep the last thing she ate firmly in her stomach. Both wizards disappeared and a few more came on before they arrived at the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Day 1.03: Meeting Arthur</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>She followed Puckett down a tight corridor into an office she remembered being described as dingy.</p><p>In her opinion, this was not dingy. Though perhaps it appeared that way to a fifteen year old boy. It was crowded, denoting someone had a serious case of hoarding, but it certainly was not dingy. Then again she had worked in many kinds of offices and this was a step up to some of the places she used to work in, even in the future. </p><p>Still, she chalked up the relative niceness of the no-window office to the presence of magic. Especially as some muggle items crammed in here were behaving in a very un-muggle like fashion.  A clock with magically animated wooden figures that danced around on the hour, a self huling hulahoop.  A skateboard that hovered on its own with crudely drawn markings in an attempt to make it look like a hoverboard.  Clearly some muggleborn or halfblood had watched too many 80s movies. Or perhaps not? She still didn’t know what year it was, and that magically charmed hoverboard looked fairly new to the pile of muggle artifacts. </p><p>“Got a visitor, Mr. Weasley!” Puckett called out into the office.</p><p>Raz eyed the two desks that were surrounded by filing cabinets only allowing enough space to show off the space of the desk with the in-tray. Which was overfilled with various things. The office’s shelves were similarly stuffed with other muggle artifacts.</p><p>“A visitor?” A silver streaked ginger haired wisp of a man stood up suddenly. Arthur Weasley was not how the movie portrayed, but instead appeared to be more like how the books described.  He shuffled around the overloaded desk with a pair of thick rimmed spiral faced spectacles balanced across his nose.</p><p>Raz recognized the design often used on fake X-ray glasses. She squinted, knowing which office this was and crossed her arms. Were those glasses actually working? Had someone enchanted or charmed them to actually view the world like an X ray?</p><p>“Sorry for the mess. We just came back from a night raid. Perkins!” He called and another wizard sat up at the other desk. He’d been hidden behind a filing cabinet. </p><p>“Wh-What?” The wizard muttered through his lethargy.</p><p>“Perkins, we’ve a visitor.” Arthur snapped his fingers near the wizard’s ear. He woke up and slapped Arthur’s hand away. Arthur huffed but beamed toward Raz. “Now what do you have for us? Some enchanted muggle item?”</p><p>“No artifacts, Mr. Weasley. But she’s here to report a sighting.” Puckett took initiative.</p><p>Raz blessed her up and down because she was a little overwhelmed. She needed the time to come up with a story to tell Arthur. Part of the reason why she stated she was headed for this office was so she’d go to someone she could trust. But now she needed a legitimate report to give.</p><p>“Oh? A tip. Fantastic. I’ll draw us up some tea.” Arthur pulled his wand up and with a flick of his wrist, one of the filing cabinets was transfigured into a chair and table.</p><p>Raz had to remind herself to look unimpressed. As though she hadn’t just witnessed an alchemical miracle as metal melted into soft looking strands of fabric on a couch and a lace covered wooden table.</p><p>“Problem?” Arthur asked. While she’d been staring at the transfigured couch too long, he had summoned a tray from somewhere with cups and a kettle.</p><p>“No.” She muttered. Raz sat on a chair that was surprisingly more comfortable than it looked.</p><p>“Ah, I’ve been pinged.” Puckett tutted as she looked over the lapel where the cloth had changed colors. “Don’t suppose you could escort her to the home office after, Mr. Weasley?”</p><p>“Escort?” Arthur asked.</p><p>“She’s been confunded and needs a little help.” Puckett explained.</p><p>“Oh you poor dear. Of course, of course - anything she might need.” Arthur waved Puckett off as he set a cup of tea down.</p><p>With that, Puckett left. Leaving Raz to falsify a witness report on a misuse of muggle artifact. She wasn’t entirely sure of the laws here, but back home perjury was a punishable offense. Recording of lies into court record might land Arthur Weasley in some trouble. She knew he was a nice fellow. Was she really going to put him in danger? Or risk his job?</p><p>“Will two sugars be alright, Miss…?” Arthur pointed at the cup of tea he’d poured.</p><p>“Yes, thank you. And it’s Raziel Moore. Raz for short.”</p><p>Arthur paused as she finally spoke more than one syllable and blinked. “Merlin’s teeth, you’re a yank!”</p><p>“Is my accent that obvious?”</p><p>“Just a bit.” He squinted at the tea with a frown. “Do Americans even drink tea? What with the whole Boston harbour business?”</p><p>Raz snorted with genuine amusement. “Some Americans drink tea. Though not any tea you would recognize.” She accepted the cup. </p><p>“I heard your lot serves it chilled?”</p><p>“Quite, and with ice.”</p><p>“Blasphemous.” Arthur gasped with mock horror.</p><p>“Or overly sweetened with no cream.”</p><p>“Now that is too far. You yanks must surely be stopped.” Arthur threatened with a wag of his finger.</p><p>“Good luck. Next time we’ll dump the crumpets and scones into the harbour.” Raz threw back with a smirk.</p><p>Arthur’s eyes crinkled at the edges as he smiled. Raz had the sneaking suspicion he had done that all on purpose to help her relax, because the tension in her shoulders released. This wasn’t going to make it any easier as she bold-faced lied to him.</p><p>She swallowed and released a heavy sigh. “Thank you.”</p><p>“Nonsense, Miss Moore. Thank you. It was looking to be a dreadfully boring day full of paperwork. They always are after a raid.”</p><p>She stirred the cup in her hand. Truthfully, Raz was not a tea person, never had been. A consequence of her upbringing across the pond and thirty years in the future. Heck she didn’t even like ice tea or the southern sweet tea. Tea was just not her thing. Nor was coffee, or most caffeinated or caffeine filled drinks. And the decaffeinated variants were bland and disappointing. But chocolate milk? Hot chocolate? Now that she could get behind. Still, it was rude and impolite to refuse the cup so she sipped at it. It had a mint like flavour to it that warmed and relaxed her. It was not her typical response to tea.  She squinted at it before swallowing.</p><p>“Now then, where did you witness the misuse?” Arthur asked, pulling her attention again. Floating beside him was a notebook and a quill and ink bottle. The quill appeared poised to write.</p><p>Raz furrowed her brows. Was it a self-writing quill? A prototype to Fred and George’s quill?</p><p>“I don’t quite remember the name of where...do you perchance have a map?” Raz asked. She was stalling. She didn’t know Britain well, but she knew a few of the really touristy sections.</p><p>“Certainly. Map of the country? Any particular city?”</p><p>“London.”</p><p>Arthur raised his wand and flicked it at the bookshelves of muggle items. A folded up map of Muggle London. It was a tourist map, and surprisingly not an overly outdated one by the look of it. Or at least this pamphlet was properly preserved. Given that magic existed, she could blame that.</p><p>She blinked in confusion however when she saw the date and the markers for the stations for the subway - underground. “Nineteen eighty?” She blanched. Was she that far back in time? Was Voldemort still an issue? Did she land toward the end of the First Wizarding War? She looked up at Arthur. No, he didn’t look her age and he was working in this office. That happened - she squinted - when? She couldn’t remember when.</p><p>“Sorry, it’s a bit outdated.” Arthur apologized with a wince. “Come to think of it, it has been awhile since I visited Muggle London proper.” He mused. “Usually it’s during a raid.”</p><p>Raz smiled and looked over the map again. “I was at Westminster Bridge.” She pointed at Big Ben and slid her finger to Trafalgar Square. Both big tourist spots. “Took a trip to the square.”</p><p>“First time in London?” Arthur teased.</p><p>This is where she paused. She needed to lay the groundwork, needed to lie if it meant she wouldn’t be deported back to the States where she didn’t know anything or anyone - at least not during this stretch of time. Especially because she didn’t know anyone who might actually be able to help her find a way back home. She looked at Arthur, into his eyes and felt like the biggest asshole as she opened her mouth.</p><p>“Well not really. It’s my second time in London. First was when I was born.”</p><p>“Oh!” Arthur’s expression lightened up. “So Britain born, American raised?”</p><p>Raz forced the largest smile she could muster. “Yes. My mom never got the chance to show me her home, so I decided to see it for myself.” It wasn’t an outright lie. Her mom really did never get the chance to show her the homeland, problem was - she had a different homeland.</p><p>“I took a look around Piccadilly and made my way toward Portobello Road...” She trailed off and rubbed her temple as she remembered what actually happened. It was always best to lace lies with the truth. Made them more believable.</p><p>She’d been walking through Disney and spotted the iconic red telephone box. She’d already had her picture taken at a fake platform nine and three quarters, why not at a fake ministry entrance?</p><p>“I was looking through some jewelry…”</p><p>Upon entering the red telephone box, she’d dialed six-two-four-four-two.</p><p>“When there was a flash…things got hazy.” She didn’t need to lie here, or force herself to look scared. Her stomach squirmed from the stones weighing it down. Raz remembered that flash, but she doesn’t remember anything else until the red telephone box was opening right in the ministry entrance hall.</p><p>“A flash?” Arthur prompted.</p><p>Raz eyed him, her brows drawn inward in worry and fear. “Like...from a camera.”</p><p>“A camera?”</p><p>“Yes, they record your image.” Something to focus on. She went to explain what cameras are but Arthur waved her off and went searching around the office. He pulled out an old and antiquated TLR camera.</p><p>“Like this?” He asked, with a level of concentration she hadn’t expected.</p><p>“Er, no...more modern. A latest camera model. They’re quite compact nowadays.” She explained and gestured with her hands the size of a polaroid camera from her childhood.</p><p>“I see.” Arthur nodded and rummaged through the mountain of items and then finally switched to a filing cabinet where he pulled a few files out. “Seems to fit the pattern. Though I don’t believe there’s been any sightings in Portobello yet...”</p><p>“Has this happened before?” Raz asked, leaning forward with incredulity. Either she was given a break, or she was going to have to lie through her teeth now. Or maybe both.</p><p>“Quite a number of times. We’ve not been able to track the culprit down. Though a confundus charm triggered by the flash - that’s new.” Arthur muttered and then turned. “Perkins!”</p><p>The sleepy wizard grumbled but stood up.</p><p>“We’ve got another flasher!”</p><p>Raz might have laughed, if the absence of a large chuck of her short term memories wasn’t now legitimately worrying her.</p><p>Perkins snorted. A drawer opened on his desk roughly. Paper rummaged and then Perkins was ambling his way around to sit beside Arthur. He was an elder fellow with fluffy white hair.</p><p>“Do you remember anything about the encounter?” Perkins addressed her. Arthur was shuffling through the files and pulling out a few choice ones.</p><p>“Not really. Just the flash.”</p><p>There was a shared glance between them.</p><p>“Do you remember anything leading up to the encounter? Perhaps someone following you?” Arthur now asked.</p><p>Raz shook her head. “I didn’t notice anyone.”</p><p>“Maybe an animal?”</p><p>“No. Just...other tourists and nothing...nothing after the flash.” Raz admitted. The flash of a fellow tourist taking the picture of her in the box.</p><p>Arthur and Perkins shared that damning look again.</p><p>If this world was real...magic was real...could she have been obliviated? Her eyes widened. “Was I obliviated?” Her throat tightened.</p><p>“You may have been.” Perkins was blunt.</p><p>“We’ll need to take you to St. Mungos for an examination.” Arthur stated.</p><p>“Why?”</p><p>“Well…” They looked uncomfortable.</p><p>“An unauthorized Obviation and done by an unlicensed obliviator could have caused damage...irreparable damage to your memories, among other places.”</p><p>“Damage?!” her voice went up an octave. She felt faint, breath haggard as she thought of the potential harm she could have suffered.</p><p>Arthur reached across to touch her hand. Grounding her to the sensation. “Miss Moore, is there anyone we can floo to be there with you during your examination?”</p><p>She shook her head.</p><p>“No one?” Arthur sighed, resigned.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Day 1.04: St. Mungos & The Leaky</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>In the end Arthur waited for her in St Mungo’s. They first stopped off in the Home Office, where Arthur’s presence speedily got her birth certificate ‘reprinted’. No proof of residency needed thanks to her admittance she’d been visiting on holiday and how she’d done her duty as a ‘citizen born under the crown’ and reported a crime.  From there the trip to St Mungo’s was a quick one. They took a floo fireplace that was specifically connected to St. Mungos. There was no need to indicate your destination - just walk through.</p><p>There were a few more questions Arthur asked - but Raz had nothing more to offer. Now it was just the examination to determine the extent of the attack. She had a feeling what was in store. It was a common fan theory that the use of Obliviation could be used in assault cases. But with no memory you couldn’t exactly report it. The only evidence being physical.</p><p>“Another obliviation victim?” Tutted one of the Healers at Arthur. “Why didn’t she come here first?”</p><p>“She’s shown signs of being confunded as well.” Arthur tried to lower his voice. “She was confused and concentrated on the one task, reporting the attack to the Ministry.”</p><p>“Poor dear.” The healer sent Raz pitying looks.</p><p>Raz looked away. She should have said no to this examination. But what if she had been assaulted in that space of time? Worse case scenario is they learn she’s not a witch. Well, she could always claim to be a squib.</p><p>The healer took her to a private room, where she stripped off her bag, cloak, and clothes. She wasn’t entirely sure what was done, but there was quite a bit of wand waving and some odd looking projections produced. The healer examined her skin, head, and then told her to redress.</p><p>“That’s it? No…” Raz shifted as she squirmed. “What if they…” here she splayed her hand over her abdomen.</p><p>The Healer smiled softly at her. “There was no evidence of any recent activity, but if you are concerned I can give you a prescription of Mense-Induction potion to be sure.”</p><p>Raz nodded quickly.</p><p>“Very well.” The Healer nodded and made to leave but paused. “Mister Weasley will inevitably request information, but I cannot give him any information unless you consent to it.” The Healer held up a form.</p><p>Raz blinked. Healer patient confidentiality? Well she hadn’t expected that. “What sort of information?”</p><p>“Anything we found.” The Healer leveled her with a look. “And confirmation on things we didn’t find.”</p><p>“Oh...sure…” She grabbed it and signed it away. The healer left her to redress quickly.  She stepped out and met Arthur in the lobby.</p><p>He looked fairly out of place and nervous but jumped up. “All done?”</p><p>“All done.” The healer announced and handed over her examination report to Arthur. “There was no evidence of any form of battery.”</p><p>“Oh bless.” Arthur sighed relieved for exactly one moment before his brows furrowed. “Any residual magic?”</p><p>The healer frowned and looked back to Raz. “There was no residual magic. Whatever confusion she had from the attack, will not last any longer than today.”</p><p>Raz blinked. Not that she had been confunded. “What about the memory charm? Will I...regain my memories?”</p><p>“I’m sorry.” The healer shook their head. She turned back to the desk and grabbed a small potion bottle. “This is for you. Take it with a meal, alright?”</p><p>Raz nodded and then shifted as she eyed the other paperwork the healer put down. “Oh um…” Then she looked at Arthur. “I...I don’t have any money to pay for this.”</p><p>Arthur furrowed his brows. The Healer raised theirs. “Why would you expect to?”</p><p>Raz started. Did British wizards have universal health care? “In America...we do…”</p><p>“Really?” Arthur leaned his head back, affronted. The Healer tutted and just set more paperwork in front of her.</p><p>“Well, the colonies have certainly no regard for their people. Here, it’s covered by our taxes. No need to worry about that. So long as you’re a British citizen.”</p><p>“Right…” Raz nodded. And she was a British citizen - now that she had a birth certificate saying so. She finished signing off on the prescription and thanked the Healer. St. Mungos had an exit right onto the streets of London.</p><p>“Now then, let's get you a meal for that potion, yes? The Leaky Cauldron isn’t too far from here.”</p><p>Walking through Muggle London was fun when accompanied by a Muggle-loving Wizard. He was enthused by everything he saw. If it weren’t for his accent, he could easily be deemed a tourist. She imagined her own accented voice added to that effect as she answered his questions.</p><p>“You’re quite knowledgeable about muggles.”</p><p>“I should assume so, considering I’ve lived among them for all of my life.”</p><p>“All your life, Miss Moore?” Arthur asked as he took them down an alley that was fairly abandoned.</p><p>Raz blinked. Should she have said most instead? “Raz, please call me Raz, Mister Weasley.”</p><p>“Only if you call me Arthur.” He smiled while wiping his glasses.</p><p>“To answer your question, yes I have. My father’s a nomaj - American word for muggle.” She explained without prompt. She hated the word, it felt unnatural to say - unlike muggle. “I lived in a muggle neighborhood and I was raised mostly muggle, went to muggle schools, attended muggle university, got a muggle job.”</p><p>“What about your magical education?”</p><p>“Homeschooled.” Raz lied through her teeth, but it was the only thing she could think of to explain her lack of magical experience, knowledge, and skill. “My father wanted me to blend in as best as I could to prevent detection.  It’s a lot easier to blend in if you were never an outsider.”</p><p>Arthur frowned. “So you never interacted with any wizards or witches?”</p><p>“Sometimes. Not often...this is the most I’ve spoken with any wizard outside my immediate family.” Raz beamed. It wasn’t untrue, depending on your definition of wizard. She needed to deflect though, get off her background else she’ll run out of truth’s cushioned by lies. “Enough about me, what about you? I can’t imagine you run around playing bureaucratic white knight to lost tourists for the Ministry all day.”</p><p>Arthur chuckled softly. “Yes. Well I’m married…” He lingered on that, almost purposefully. “And I have seven wonderful children.”</p><p>“Seven?!” Raz gasped.  She knew this already but she wanted to hear more about the Weasley children.</p><p>“My eldest, Bill, works for Gringotts as a Curse breaker.  My second eldest, Charlie will be entering his final year at Hogwarts come September. After that there’s Percy, my twins Fred and George, Ron and then my youngest - Ginny.”</p><p>“You must be so proud of your eldest.” Raz prompted, a genuine smile as this was valuable information. Charlie was going into his final year, which put her in the summer of 1990.</p><p>“Oh immensely. He found the position right quick. He’d been dreaming of working with Gringotts since he was a little lad.” Arthur glowed the more he talked about his son. He was just as any parent, going into further and further detail - especially at the urging from Raz.</p><p>They came upon what briefly looked like a broken-down old shop front on Charing Cross, at least until Raz blinked and she saw the sign: The Leaky Cauldron.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Arthur kept chattering away about his children, the rough time his eldest children had this past year but they seemed to bounce back well. He directed them into the pub, Raz ducked in and barely managed to hold her breath as she saw more cloaked witches and wizards. One long table filled the pub with a handful of private side tables and two corner booths. There was a large chalkboard with the Luncheon menu listed behind the bar where Tom, the proprietor, served up drinks to patrons.</p><p>Her footsteps slowed as she looked around, fully expecting to find Hagrid and Harry there, or even a turban wearing Professor Quirrel - but they weren’t. She was a year and some change too early.</p><p>She spied a few copies of the daily prophet on the table, abandoned there or left over while their owners went to the loo - she wasn’t sure.  But she watched as a witch got up, leaving her copy behind and asked if she could take it. The witch nodded and passed her by to leave toward the back. If Raz had to guess she was heading toward the entrance to Diagon Alley.</p><p>The thought sent an excited bubble through her as she caught up to Arthur who found them a spot at the bar.</p><p>“Arthur.” Tom tilted his head.</p><p>“Tom, if you would get us two pints of beer.  And I’ll have a leaky house soup. Miss Moore?” Arthur asked as she sat beside him.</p><p>“Uhhh…” She eyed through the similarly named items and squinted. “Don’t suppose I can’t order a ham and cheese sandwich?”</p><p>“Soup House Leaky it is, Miss Moore.” Tom greeted her. He first set two cups of tepid lukewarm yet frothy beer in front of them and then he was off to the kitchen, a quick flick of his wand and Raz could see the kitchen enchanted to make the orders.</p><p>Arthur picked up his mug and took a long draw, his shoulders relaxed and he grinned. “Only one pint, I’ve still got the rest of the work day ahead of me.”</p><p>Raz sipped the pint, and grimaced.</p><p>“Don’t like the beer?”</p><p>“Oh no.  Just an Americanism…” Raz waved it off. “We drink our beer cold.”</p><p>“Oh- oh!” Arthur laughed and reached into his cloak, pulling out a long bag and purse with a jingle of coins. “You just reminded me. While you were being looked over by the Healer - I had Perkins take a bit of our budget to get you a loaner wand from Jimmy Kiddell’s and some galleons to help you replenish what was stolen. It isn’t much - but I thought given the events you might need a little help.” Arthur set the bags beside her.</p><p>Raz’s eyes widened. First at the generosity, which made her all the more guilty she’s lied to his face, and at the fact he got her a wand. An actual wand. He would never know it, but it would be her very first real wand. </p><p>Though she’d never heard of  Jimmy Kiddell’s Wandmakers - still.</p><p>“Th-thank you, Arthur.” Raz’s voice warbled and then she sniffed.</p><p>“Oh now, it’s nothing, Miss Moore.”</p><p>“I told you to call me Raz.” She huffed.</p><p>“That you did. Well go on…open it.”</p><p>She opened the bag with the wand, completely uninterested with the money with the prospect of a real wand. There were two slips of paper, one with the loaner number and the other with the wand details. Eight and one fourth inches, acacia wood, kneazle whiskers core. “Hmm.” She didn’t remember Ollivander ever using kneazle whiskers as a core. She squinted and then pulled out the wand.</p><p>She was expecting some sort of rush of magic, or wind like Harry experienced. There was nothing like it. Not a single physical blip. But there was...something. It was warm almost. No - vibrating. She slipped her fingers more firmly around the wand. The grooves in the wood didn’t feel at home, but there was just something about it - something...cozy.</p><p>She had to try a spell. But for the life of her, she couldn’t think of any at that moment. “Blast...you know how you can just completely forget a word and its on the tip of your tongue?”</p><p>“A right nightmare that, I always remember the word when I least need it.”</p><p>“Right, thats me for a spell to cool my drink.” Raz rubbed her face in aggravation for emphasis.</p><p>“Refrigero?” Arthur quirked a brow.</p><p>“That's it!” Raz snapped her finger and then pointed the tip of the wand at the beer and spoke softly, not too loudly but firmly. “Refrigero.” There was nothing. She blinked, eyed the wand again and tried again. “Refrigero.”</p><p>She touched the glass. It wasn’t...lukewarm anymore. She sipped the beer.</p><p>It took all her control, willpower, and self discipline to not laugh as the beer was colder. Not a lot, but it sure was not lukewarm anymore.</p><p>So instead she forced herself to pout and pointed the wand, about to repeat the spell. Or was about to when Arthur pulled his own wand out and tapped her glass. “Refrigero Tria.” The glass began to sprout condensation. Raz took a sip and nodded.</p><p>“Thanks.”</p><p>Tom returned with their meals. Raz suddenly felt famished and began scarfing it down - uncaring what was in her sandwich. Though from the taste of it there had been something pickled. She wasn’t one for fermented anything but she didn’t care.  She had a wand and she could do magic- however little. She needed to remember every spell - or find a book in a bargain bin somewhere in Diagon Alley to study. Charms, Defense against the dark arts, transfigurations, a book on household spells or beauty spells - anything really!</p><p>Once finished, she remembered the potion the Healer had given her and she took it and drank the rest of her beer. Arthur paid the tab - Raz noted it was nine sickles and she added it to a mental tally of the debt she owed Arthur Weasley. She’d find some way to repay him.</p><p>“I’d best be back to the office. Now… if you need anything, or remember anything else from the attack, Miss Moore.” Arthur turned to her and held out a small business card with his name. The paper itself was a bit wrinkled and old. He wrote something on the back of it with a quill from his cloak. “Just floo the office or the Burrow. But I trust you will be alright?”</p><p>“Yes.  And...I cannot thank you enough, Arthur.”</p><p>“I’m just glad you’re all sorted out now.”</p><p>Raz watched him leave, using the Floo. Once he was gone, she finally looked at the bag with the coins in it.  Ten galleons, 16 sickles, and 49 knuts.  It wasn’t much and it wasn’t like she could use her future currency now or any of her debit cards.  She was going to have to budget herself to make this stretch if she was going to survive in Wizard London. </p><p>But if the Weasleys could do it...so could she.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>My friend (LonelyAgain) and I decided every two weeks was a better update schedule at the rate we're writing future chapters.  Plus these are fairly small chapters to start with.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Day 1.05: Plan & Action</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>As it turned out, stretching a little more than 10 galleons was going to be extremely hard. It was the equivalent of fifty US dollars and some change, which in 1990 had an okay purchasing power but not enough to last her more than a day once she took note of the price of things. A room at the Leaky Cauldron cost 15 galleons a night or 15 sickles an hour - which was not something Raz was prepared to think about.  Though it did make sense given it was a destination location. Either way, spending the night in the Cauldron was out of the question until she had more money.  It wasn’t like she could use the few notes she had in her wallet, those were from the future. Muggles would call them fakes, while goblins… she had a feeling goblins would ask too many questions.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She needed a plan. She needed to think. She needed a pint.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She spent an hour in the bar, listening to the conversations around her while she read every detail in the copy of the Prophet she had grabbed.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Most of the conversations were about the upcoming Quidditch World Cup matches. There was a lot of betting going on. Raz read about it in the Prophet, saw the image they had managed to snap. If she had money she could bet on one of the future matches, as is she barely had enough.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Beyond the sports news there was politics. The swearing in of Cornelius Fudge as Minister of Magic was – once again according to the Prophet – delayed due to a conflict in scheduling with the Queen. Former Minister Bagnold continued in the position despite her retirement.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There were a few advice columns. One column answered a query about the proper cleaning technique on a cauldron between uses for culinary and the potion making arts. There was none, as contamination was likely and you’re more likely to poison your next dinner guest that way. Good to know.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She ordered herself another pint of beer, this time it came pre-chilled. Tom’s grin was goofy as he set it down. “Thanks.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How long are you in England?” He made conversation as she fiddled with the paper.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Probably for the long term.” She muttered and drank a long pull from the pint. “I need to find a job.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Most of the shops in the alley are hiring for summer work.” Tom advised.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Temp work. Looking for something more...uh...permanent.” Raz mused.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ya might try the postings in the Prophet.” Tom pointed to the paper in her hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Will do, thanks Tom.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Finally she turned toward the classifieds.  Job postings galore, all in Wizarding London. A good chunk of the larger adverts were for shops in Diagon Alley. They could clearly afford better advertising. A few...carefully worded ones were for Knockturn Alley. Some other Wizarding locations in England were advertising but with smaller print.  And some people around England were hiring for various jobs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was one ad that caught her eye.  It read: seeking smart, steady, respectable young woman for governess position. Raz snorted to herself, who still hired governesses in this day and age?  She shook her head and read on until it said it required a firm candidate willing to administer punishment. “Nope.” She was not getting into that lifestyle - not again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She set the paper down to grab her pint, but paused as she eyed the luncheon menu hanging up and next to it was another chalkboard with the title of ‘Gamp's Old Gregarious 100 Galleon Challenge’. The win column was so thin and empty, it was laughable when compared to the over crowded and overtallied lose column.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What...is that?” She pointed at it. Tom chuckled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bit of an old tradition. Back when the Leaky was first put under the Statue of Secrecy, the landlord made the beer and named it after the first Minister.  Problem is, the beer is horrid. No one’s been able to finish a pint of it since it was first made three centuries ago.” Tom explain. “So we set a prize to whoever can.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“One hundred galleons?” Raz asked, one eyebrow raised.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You wanna give it a go?” Tom put down the mug he’d been drying by hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Raz thought about it. No one, not one person was able to finish it? She frowned, weighing her chance of success. No… there was no way she’d try if it was really that disgusting. “No...I think I’ll pass.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ya let me know if ya change yer mind then.” Tom tutted and moved around to help other patrons.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Raz went back to the classifieds. Between the dismal pay and dubious positions, she may as well just get a muggle job packing crates or stocking shelves or begging or….</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Raz blinked and then eyed the wand she still held in her hand.  She’d already lied to the Ministry, why was she going about this the legitimate way? Who says she needs a job anyway? Not with a wand and a few favorite spells memorized?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With a slow smirk, she packed away the copy of the prophet and walked out of the Leaky Cauldron.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She’s never stolen anything in her life - unless you counted illegally downloading things. But she was going to attempt to steal now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With her cloak removed to avoid strange looks, Raz walked down Charing Cross until she found the first densely packed car park she could find. Most cars in the 90s had very little electronics in them. Luxury cars certainly had electronic systems, but most cars on the road were still operating on mechanical systems for their windows and pin or wafer tumbler locks on their doors.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Even if she didn’t have the spell Alohomora, a simple plain key and screwdriver would have popped open any car door. But she wanted to avoid attention and strange looks not look suspicious while carrying those around.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Raz passed through the parking lot once, picking out the cars to target by what she could easily see and swipe from their cup holders in terms of change or money. And just because she knew how trusting or forgetful people could be, she tried to open the car doors a few times. Where she was from, this was called cherry picking. She’d lost dozens of CDs and one iPod to cherry pickers, and who knows how much spare change.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When the first door opened, Raz slid in. If she knew anything about hot wiring she might have made the attempt, but instead she quickly looked around the dash, glove compartment, and then the change pile. She didn’t look for anything else.  Snatched the few coins there and then slipped out of the car.  She did the same for the next car that opened with no effort, grabbing what little change she could, then left that lot - paranoia eating at her that someone had noticed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But for other cars, she had to wait until the area was clear. While she did, she checked on the items in her bag. She hadn’t been alone before to check, but she wondered about the state of her phone and tablet. Both of them were dead. She wondered if they’ve been shorted out by travelling through floo or the initial transportation via the red telephone box. She’d have to find some place to charge them - after purchasing a converter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once the area was fairly clear, she resumed her plan and approached her first car with the wand heavy and electrifying in her palm. She pointed from her waist to the lock. “Alohomora.”  There was a brief tiny tingle in her grip, that crawled under her skin and ended at her fingertips. A metal click let her know the tumbler locks had clicked into place and turned, the car door was unlocked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Raz was in business.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She switched from private car parks to cars on the street as she walked, never targeting more than one car every other road. Raz bought herself a cheap sandwich from a cafe with a large bottle of water for an early dinner, before she looped back around to a bank where she exchanged the twenty British pounds worth of coins for a twenty pound note.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then came the fun part.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She found a secluded alley, pulled her wand out and the twenty pound note. “Okay...here goes nothing…Geminio.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Again the tingle came but it expanded into a pins and needles feeling that crawled from her chest to her arm and out to her fingertips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nothing happened at first. So she cast again, with more force. Again. Nothing except her hand coming alive with pins and needles. So something was happening just not what she wanted.  Maybe it was technique? She remembered how an office printer makes copies, scanning with light and printing it exactly, first the front then the back.  She cast the spell. The note shivered in her hand and another one materialized, shaking and then went flying up from one side of the seam.  Raz barely caught it and eyed the note. It was not identical. In fact it looked completely off.  It had the general shapes of colors, the face was smudged, the numbers wobbly, and all of the text was gibberish.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s okay... first try. And I know you’re still getting used to me… and its technically my first time using magic.” She muttered, more to the wand than herself. She ripped the not-quite duplicate and tossed it in a bin before trying again.  A note popped up, this one a little better but she could still tell it was off.  The color of the note wasn’t as vibrant.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She tried again. And again, and again, and again, again several dozen times until finally her hand cramped. Her forearm hurt and she was tired - deep in her chest tired. But she couldn’t stop now. She needed enough to enact her plan and she hadn’t even managed to get it right for one. Raz swapped hands for casting and tried again. This time, it worked after a few more tries. The note was nearly identical down to the serial number and vibrant coloring.  She was sure a tender inspector would likely find fault but for the average cashier? It looked entirely passable.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wow…” Raz looked down at her wand. “So I was using the wrong hand was I? Guess you like being on my left?” She stroked the wand, and it all but hummed with power. As though she was lifting a weight. Her left hand had always been stronger, her right was more dexterous. “Okay, a few more times.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When she had four more duplicates, she left the alley and entered the first chain store she found. She used her Geminio money to buy a shirt in one store, a pair of trousers in another, and an extra set of pants and bras all while accepting real money for change.  Immediately after, she quickly travelled a few blocks over - unsure how long that spell would last and those notes would deteriorate.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Using her collective change, she went to another bank and asked for a fifty pound note. And she repeated the process, making sure to swap stores, travelling a few blocks and doing it again until she had a suitcase full of five outfits, a pair of trainers, a few gold necklaces, rings, and some amenities and toiletries after she went into Harrods.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was the easiest two thousand US dollars she’d ever made. In British pounds that was one thousand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Raz might have felt bad at the end of it, but she always made sure to only target big franchise stores. And only used real muggle money in the small businesses.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When it was starting to get late, the sun well on its way down, she stopped her efforts. She had to make it back to the Leaky Cauldron to get to Gringotts.  So with her suitcase in hand, she got a cab.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Leaky Cauldron didn’t flicker to what she imagined Muggles saw when they approached.  She wondered if it had anything to do with the fact she’d never had magic in her entire life until now, or at least had access to it. Either way, she stepped in. The Cauldron was considerably more packed this time. She slunk toward the bar, and beamed at Tom who caught her eye behind the bar.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Miss Moore! I see you’re back.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I see you’ve gotten busy here, Tom.” She hollered, and then waved as she slipped to the Diagon Alley entrance. She tapped the third brick from the left above the trash can and stepped back to watch in unabashed wonder as the bricks folded aside revealing Diagon Alley. It was a sight to behold or it would have, if any of the shop’s windows were open.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh no…” She muttered and walked out. The shops were closed or closing. “No no no...no.” She jogged down the alley, slowing as she came around the bend and saw Gringotts and currency exchange. Both of them...closed. “Fuck.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Day 1.06: Drinks at the Leaky</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was a slow and dejected trip back to the Leaky Cauldron. She plopped down at the only empty chair on the long table.  The raucous crowd of bar goers were celebrating something, she wasn’t sure. When a pint of lukewarm beer got deposited in front of her, she squinted. “What?”</p><p>“Some bloke’s bought a pint for everyone.” A witch to her right explained and clinked glasses with hers and took long sips.</p><p>Raz contemplated the beer for exactly one second. “Fuck it.” She grabbed the free beverage and drank it in one long chug. It got the attention of the two sitting right next to her. With an empty glass, she slammed it down and released a low and growing long belch - uncaring. The two however clapped for her.</p><p>“That was b-br-brilliant!” The wizard had light brown hair that was wispy at the ends with a neatly trimmed goatee.</p><p>“Glad to amuse.” Raz forced herself to grin.</p><p>“Oh don’t be sour, Miss. We just haven’t seen anyone chug a whole pint that fast since our Hogwarts days.” The witch who had clinked glasses with her explained. She had dark ochre toned skin, a flat nose and a charmingly crooked toothy smile. She wore her hair in a fairly modern muggle-ish updo, teal robes, with a yellow dress underneath.</p><p>“Oh well, that’s a new low for me.” Raz sighed. “Drinking like a 7th year trying to hide what they’re doing.”</p><p>They both laughed at her expense. The witch held her hand out. “I’m Magnolia.”</p><p>Raz shook her hand. “Raziel.” She turned to the wizard who waved another pint down.</p><p>“Quirinus.” He stated. The name made her blink, why did it sound familiar? She narrowed her gaze at him. “Something wrong?”</p><p>“You look familiar.” Raz leaned forward as though to get a closer look.</p><p>He laughed, almost nervously and leaned back. “I-I do eh?” He gulped, nervous.</p><p>“Is that some sort of American come on?” Magnolia asked as drinks floated to the table on a tray. Three of them. Quirinus slid one to Raz as he deposited a few coins on the tray.</p><p>“What? No!” Raz jumped and grimaced. “Not that I wouldn’t flirt with you. You just look like someone I know - knew.”</p><p>“Relax, Mags is having a go at you.” Quirinus swatted at Magnolia’s shoulder.</p><p>Raz rolled her eyes while drinking. “Thanks for the pint.” She meant to turn away from them.</p><p>“Oy, it ain’t free.” Magnolia interjected.</p><p>“It’s not?” Raz stopped, stone in her stomach. She pushed past it and quirked the corner of her lip up and batted her lashes at Magnolia. “Here I thought it was my charming personality that won me a free pint.”</p><p>“Oh t-th-that’s cute.” Quirinus snorted. “N-next round’s on you.”</p><p>“Fine.” Raz agreed. She needed a little bit more liquor to commiserate anyway. She’d have to find a muggle hotel room now and re-do some of her efforts in counterfeiting muggle money in the morning.</p><p>“So you’re American, right?” Magnolia prompted.</p><p>Raz sighed but nodded. She’d better get used to getting that question a lot.</p><p>“What brings you across the pond?” Magnolia followed up a bit too loudly for her taste. But she was able to hear her over the others.</p><p>“Initially? Holiday.” Raz stated.</p><p>“And now?” Quirinus asked.</p><p>“Well now...I’m thinking of staying.” Raz shrugged. “What do you fill your time with?”</p><p>“Ah well I am a photographer for the Daily Prophet.” Magnolia beamed.</p><p>“Really? I’ve always been curious about the mechanism for taking enchanted pictures. I only know the muggle way.” Raz replied.</p><p>“It’s really quite simple.” Magnolia leaned forward, as though she was about to share a secret. “Magic.”</p><p>Quirinus burst into laughter behind his hand as Raz deadpanned.</p><p>“Har...har.” Raz rolled her eyes and sat back.</p><p>“She gets everyone with that.”</p><p>“Never gets old.” Mags snickered. “But in all seriousness, it’s similar to the muggle way. Where you develop it. The only difference being the film used, the emulsions, and how long it’s exposed.”</p><p>“Huh.” Raz leaned back. “The more you know.” She raised her pint up and sipped and slid her gaze toward Quirinus.  “And you?”</p><p>“Oh you don’t want to ask him, he’s leaving me all alone for a whole year.”</p><p>“Mags, we’ve been over this. I’m not-”  Quirinus responded but it was unheard as the Leaky Cauldron entrance door opened and a whirl of noise from the street bled through. It sounded like glass breaking and shouting.</p><p>Raz stepped up, peering toward the door as a few witches and wizards ducked in.</p><p>“What in the bloody hell are those muggles up to now?” Magnolia frowned. “Are they raising pitchforks again?”</p><p>“Pitchforks?” Raz questioned, almost wanting to check. She knew there were riots in London in 1990. But it was July, this can’t be the same ones can they?</p><p>“What do you make of this, Professor?” Tom was beside the table now, gesturing for the entryway to be cleared. “Same as March?”</p><p>“Oh well…” Quirinus tried. “It is likely it’s the same cause. A lost ‘football’ game.”</p><p>“Foolish muggles causing a ruckus over a game.”</p><p>“Hang on… are you saying the riots in March were caused by a football game?” Raz looked at Quirinus.</p><p>“Well, Quirinus is a Muggle Studies professor, he’s the expert on all things muggles.” Magnolia explained.</p><p>Muggle Studies? She blinked. There was something tickling the back of her mind. “The Muggles weren’t rioting because of a football game in March.”  </p><p>“Oh? And how would you know?” Magnolia challenged.</p><p>She wanted to scoff and say because she was a muggle, but that wasn’t exactly true anymore. “Because I’ve lived with Muggles for over ten years. Those riots were because of a poll tax.” This she knew because she did a bit of digging while shopping around to learn about where in Muggle history she was in.</p><p>“A p-p-poll tax?” Quirinus looked at her closely.</p><p>“A community charge.” She corrected herself.</p><p>“Whatever they’re rioting for at least they haven’t brought out their signs again.” Tom closed the Leaky’s door firmly, keeping the outdoor sounds away from the tavern’s atmosphere.</p><p>“You lived with m-muggles for a decade?” Quirinus asked softly. The noise in the tavern died down saving him from raising his voice.</p><p>“Well...it’s impossible not to in the bigger cities in the colonies.” Raz sat down. “Especially when you’ve got a muggle job.”</p><p>“You had a muggle job?” Quirinus slid closer.</p><p>“Oh boy, now you’ve got him started.”</p><p>“Mags.” Quirinus whined.</p><p>“Now it’ll be muggle this and muggle that all night.” Magnolia sighed.</p><p>“Sorry...how about I buy us a double round?” Raz shot Mags an apologetic smile.</p><p>Mags raised a brow, pursing her lips before she caved. “Alright, come on.”</p><p>Raz waved two fingers at the young man behind the bar, she remembered his name as Hector from those calling for him. He nodded and sent six mugs, she dropped three sickles on the tray and set two pints in front of her evening companions.</p><p>They drank, Raz and Quirinus going back and forth about Muggle things. She had to correct him on a few things - especially his pronunciation on the more complex things. Like electricity, personal computer, software, hardware. She went over the basics of how electricity was used instead of magic. The different ways Muggles harvested it, which led to a tangent about different sources for electricity.</p><p>“If it’s the most efficient and environmentally friendly source, why are they still using folseal fuels?” Quirinus asked, his stutter gone as he spoke within his expertise.</p><p>“Fossil fuels.” Raz corrected.</p><p>“That's the oil harvested from the oceans?” Magnolia clarified.</p><p>“That's one source, yes.” Raz explained. “And to answer your question Quirinus, it’s largely because oil use is heavily ingrained in Muggle society. So it would have a huge initial cost to change the way many people live.”</p><p>“How come you didn’t know about this, Mags?” Quirinus asked.</p><p>“I’m Half-blood, I only lived among muggles for a short time and then went to Hogwarts, I don’t even think my old mates in juniors know about this.”</p><p>“Willful ignorance.” Raz muttered as she downed the last of her pint. She was starting to feel exhausted. She thought of the Leaky’s room cost and whether she wanted to get up and walk while whatever commotion was likely still happening out in London.  No, she needed to stay here and she had only one real option.</p><p>“I’ll get the next round.” Mags announced.</p><p>“Wait.” Raz looked at the challenge board behind the bar. “I want to try that Gamp challenge.”</p><p>Quirinus choked on the last gulp of his pint. Mags’ eyes widened, mouth open and contorting between shock and amusement.</p><p>“Oh no, Raz… you do not…t-th-that drink is horrid.” Quirinus warned.</p><p>“I think I can give it a go.” Raz squared her shoulders.</p><p>“Are you certain? The one time I tried I couldn’t eat for a week afterwards.” Mags warned.</p><p>“What?!” Quirinus snapped his gaze at her. “You ate a bag of biscuits the very next day.”</p><p>“Only to get the taste out of my mouth!” Mags shuddered. “Take it from us, Raz.  You really-”</p><p>“Hey Tom!” Raz didn’t wait for them to continue trying to talk her out of it. Tom met her gaze. “I want to try that…Gamp’s...Old Gr...yeah that thing.” She swayed in her seat. She wasn’t drunk, but she was good and tipsy.</p><p>The Leaky’s noise level lowered briefly before it exploded with bets being spoken and coins exchanging hands as Tom reluctantly came over with a mug covered with a wooden topper.</p><p>“You sure about this?” Tom asked as he set it down.</p><p>“Not remotely, but I’m gonna try it anyway.” Raz admitted and eyed the cup. It looked like any other beer, if you ignored the blue streaks that suspiciously reminded her of mold.  She swirled the mug and was disheartened to note the viscosity of the beer was a bit like yoghurt. “Oh...oh.” She gasped in horror.</p><p>Tom grimaced, but there was an excited aura of anticipation as all eyes were on her now.</p><p>“What are the rules?” Raz asked tentatively.</p><p>“You’ve got to drink it all.”</p><p>“No puking it up!”</p><p>“Right...that it?”  Raz asked.</p><p>“Thats it.”</p><p>“Okay…” Raz pulled the topper off completely and everyone around her took a visible and large step away. She wondered why, until the smell hit her nose, burning her nose hairs from the almost putrid stench. “Oh god…” She gagged, already heaving. “This won’t...kill me right?”</p><p>“It shouldn’t.” Mags stated.</p><p>“Oh...great.” Raz smiled tensely but she raised it. The smell being brought closer didn’t help matters. She groaned, pinched her nose and took a slurp.</p><p>Her stomach rolled and she had to put the mug down as she forcibly swallowed. “Its like viscose sausage water and tastes how durians smell. Good heavens what monster made this.”</p><p>Laughter, chuckles, and more bets filled the space around her.</p><p>“Keep going!”</p><p>Raz held one finger up as she panted to settle her stomach. “Fuck it… lets do this quickly.” She chugged. Or tried to before the nausea hit her.  She slammed the mug down, and slapped a hand over her mouth to prevent herself from puking.  Tom kicked a bucket toward her.  She shook her head, screaming into her palm and swallowed, opened her mouth and gasped.  </p><p>“That’s half a pint!” Someone yelled excitedly, another groaned as coins were swapped.</p><p>There was cheering now as she braced herself. Until her cheeks puffed with puke and she frantically had to cover her mouth again.  A few seconds and there were some forlorn sighs and coins exchanged, but she powered through and swallowed the vomit in her mouth.</p><p>A round of disgusted groans passed around.</p><p>“Does that count?”</p><p>“She still drank it and it’s not in the bucket. It counts.” Tom called.</p><p>Raz could feel the roof of her mouth burning, her eyes tearing and vision blurring a bit at the edges.  She reached for the mug again. She raised it up. “Bottoms up!” She chugged.</p><p>The last thing she remembered a few seconds after swallowing was people cheering and Mags and Quirinus clapping until their faces contorted with worry.</p><p>She woke up maybe ten minutes later with her head in the bucket and the bottom of it filled with her stomach’s content.</p><p>“You gave it a good effort.” Quirinus patted her back.</p><p>“Ugh..” Raz groaned.</p><p>“I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone keep drinking after a quarter pint, much less the whole pint. Even if you did upchuck it.” Mags laughed.</p><p>Raz looked up to retort, but a wave of nausea hit her and she heaved.  </p><p>“Come on, I bought you seltzer.”</p><p>“Thanks.” Raz moaned as she sipped at the seltzer. “What...what was in that?”</p><p>“I think it’s best we don’t know.”</p><p>“No...I...I think I need to. Because I don’t think I threw it all up.” Raz moaned, hand to her temple as she sat up.</p><p>“You… managed to keep some of it down?” Quirinus gasped.</p><p>“Yeah...my vision’s kinda…” Raz blinked rapidly and then laughed as Mags and Quirinus seemed to melt together. “Oh my god… that drink is making me trip fucking balls.”</p><p>“Trip?” Quirinus looked at Mags.</p><p>“Are...you high?” Magnolia’s smile widened.</p><p>“Po-ten-tially.” Raz sang and stood, only her legs gave way underneath her. They caught her and directed her to a seat.</p><p>“You good?”</p><p>“Yeap! More beer!” Raz laughed.</p><p>It wasn’t just beer. Quirinus and Mags bought her fish and chips while they drank. All the while Raz enjoyed the sensations rolling through her.  It made her think of that one time she ate a pot brownie without meaning to. Her skin vibrated pleasantly and she was more giggly than normal.</p><p>Their drinking continued, with Raz spouting random Muggle facts to Quirinus until the Leaky Cauldron was about to close. Quirinus had one of Magnolia’s arms over his shoulder as he walked them out. His wand held out to call the Knight Bus.</p><p>Raz followed them, dragging her suitcase behind her.  Her legs felt like they were stuck in wet cement, her face numb and head light.  </p><p>“I’ve got to drop Mags off at home. Will you be alright on your own?” Quirinus asked her.</p><p>“Me? Oh yeah?” Raz nodded, perhaps a little too enthusiastically. “I’m just going to sit here till the world stops shaking so much.” Quirinus laughed.</p><p>“Right, it was grand, Raz.” He waved as he stepped into the Knight Bus.</p><p>Raz waved at the Bus, even when it was already gone. She sunk down onto the curb, the exhaustion that had been creeping in fully on her now. She panted, her arms and shoulders drooped as she sat. She wasn’t sure for how long but long enough that when she heard a distant crash she jolted aware.</p><p>She had no place to spend the night. She may as well sleep there...</p><p>“Miss?”</p><p>“Wha?”</p><p>“Miss...you can’t sleep here. It’s not safe.” A finger poked her.</p><p>“Nowhere to go…” She groaned.</p><p>“I can floo call someone, just tell me their address.”</p><p>Floo call? She didn’t know anyone here. She was all alone, no one would come for her-</p><p>That wasn’t entirely true.</p><p>She felt around in her pocket and pulled the slip of paper out.  The owner of the voice grabbed it, swore softly, and then sighed.</p><p>When they ceased making noises, she slumped down and curled up, ready to sleep outside in the cool summer night. Until a soft hand touched her forehead.</p><p>“Oh Miss Moore. You should have told me you had no lodgings.”</p><p>Raz opened one eye and focused on the ginger hair.</p><p>“Up you go.”</p><p>She was raised up, one arm over their shoulders.</p><p>“Get me her bag, yes. Thank you for calling me. Miss..just stay close to me, we’re going to apparate, alright?”</p><p>She gave no response, her head lolling to the side.</p><p>“Right, well here we go.”</p><p>The world pulled at her center and an iron strong arm caught her by her stomach as she heaved into a bush.</p><p>“There there. Oh… you’re finished. Good. Come now.”</p><p>Raz could feel her senses clearing, but she was more exhausted than before.</p><p>“Arthur!”</p><p>“Molly, she’s had a rough day and night. She was confunded and obliviated...I don’t think she remembers where her lodgings were.”</p><p>“Molly?” Raz raised her eyelids slowly, catching sight of the shorter and pleasantly plump woman who looked at her with disapproval.</p><p>“My wife.” Arthur spoke from beside her.</p><p>“Merlin’s beard, she’s barely conscious.”</p><p>“She was almost asleep on the curb outside the Leaky, Molly.”</p><p>“Heavens! Well, lets get her up to Ginny’s room - she can share.”</p><p>Raz had been silent as they carried her through their home, but her vision got stuck on the sight of a very comfortable and enticing couch. “Couch…” she wiggled in their arms. “Sleep...couch…” She managed to get loose, though something fell behind her.  Her legs hit the armrest and she went careening face forward and then she was out.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Of course I was gonna have her do that challenge. But I wasn't going to have her beat it.  I like my Protags to suffer a bit.</p><p>Also I read all of your comments and appreciate them greatly. I'm not currently responding to them as I want to focus on writing the fic  when I have down time. But I promise I love every comment I've gotten so far and it means the world when I get an email with a new comment.  It's more fuel to keep me writing.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Day 2.01: The Weasleys</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Raz was never one to let herself get so drunk she suffered from a hangover, but the next morning...she was hungover and highover. Between the beers and that...challenge, she felt drier than a desert and like the first stiff wind could send her careening off the very comfortable couch she was sleeping on.</p><p>Couch? She groaned and shifted. A blanket was over her and she was in much lighter clothes than she remembered wearing too.</p><p>A soft finger poked her face.  She popped one eye open and regretted it immediately as the light assaulted her. “Ughhh.”</p><p>“Ron, sh… leave her alone.”</p><p>Ron? Raz blinked, confused.</p><p>“But mum, she looks dead.” A child’s voice whispered.</p><p>“Is she dead?” Another child, this one more high pitched.</p><p>“She’s just sleeping. The poor thing had a rough night. Now come along, help me with breakfast.”</p><p>Raz managed to open her eye again, catching sight of two children with ginger hair. One of them, the younger of the two looked back at her. She stilled and stared back. Raz did the first thing she could think of and smiled and made a thumbs up motion.</p><p>The girl gave a smile back but ducked after her mother, leaving Raz by herself.</p><p>The red hair, the name Ron, and the memories of last night and all of yesterday came flooding back. Making Raz realize it had not been an elaborate dream and that she really was in the Weasleys’ house in the year 1990.</p><p>A layer of panic filled her and her hands twitched, seeking out her phone to check for a signal and for some comfort, but that only served to make her hungover panic worse. So she closed her eyes again and took a few breaths. She breathed in the homey quality to the air. It was nice, calming and relaxing.  It almost lulled her back to sleep when a sharp cramp had her groaning. Raz could not dawdle on this, she could sit there and cry but she needed to get her bearings.</p><p>Luckily, yesterday had indeed happened and she thanked her strategy for handling emergencies.  She winced when that sharp cramp worsened. She desperately needed a toilet.</p><p>“Welp… no rest for the wicked.” With the blanket off, she sat up and balked at the nightdress she was wearing and then winced at that sound of her voice and cottonball mouth. She looked around for water and found a glass on a table along with a little potion. There was a strip of paper that read ‘hangover potion’.  </p><p>“Oh...neat.”  She took it and drank all of the water.  It was only a few moments when her head cleared and she felt more herself. She still ached, tremendously in her arms, shoulders, and chest - but it was oddly not a muscle strain. Something else…though her legs were strained from all that walking, but she could handle that.</p><p>Steps pulled her gaze to the living room entrance where one Molly Weasley smiled at her with a spatula in one hand and a wand in the other.</p><p>“I hope you don’t mind. But I changed you into one of my old night dresses. You looked about the size, even if it’s a bit short.”</p><p>“Er…” Raz felt small in the nightgown.  “I don’t mind.” She looked down, briefly wondered if Molly had seen her tattoo. By her lack of response and overall suspicion - she sure hoped not. It was the sort of tattoo that could easily be misconstrued for a morsmorde if you’ve never seen one before.  “Um...I don’t really...remember how I got here? Last night’s a little hazy.”</p><p>Molly’s expression had an initial emotion she wasn’t sure of, but it softened.  “My husband, Arthur, brought you here after he received a floo call from Tom at the Leaky Cauldron.” Molly explained, emphasizing the husband part. It reminded her of how Arthur emphasized how he had a wife to her.  “You should thank him. Bringing home a strange drunken woman to a house full of children.”</p><p>“What’s drunken?” A tiny distant voice asked.</p><p>“I’ll tell you when you’re older, Ginny.” Molly shot back over her shoulder.</p><p>“Oh…” Raz sank into the couch, face in her palms. “Oh god.” She moaned. “I am...so sorry. I didn’t think-”</p><p>“Didn’t think?” Molly’s voice took on a shrill quality and then lowered as she stepped further into the room. “You’re a grown woman! You should be able to realize you shouldn’t be drinking until you’re incapable of merely walking! What would your parents think? What would your mother?”</p><p>“My mother?” Raz asked.  Her mother? She hadn’t even thought of her mother...hadn’t thought about how unlikely it was she’d ever see her family again.  Her eyes burned, bottom lip quivering. She’d been so busy trying to figure out a way to just survive on day one she hadn’t really let her predicament settle in. And day two wasn’t even appropriate either, but well here she was. Angrily wiping at the shed tears. “Sorry-” she apologized while trying to swallow her emotions.</p><p>“No, I’m sorry.  I hadn’t realized. You lost your mother?” Molly asked delicately. “Recently?”</p><p>In a way, yes she did. She nodded her head.</p><p>“Oh you poor thing.”  Molly set her wand in her apron and wrapped her up in a hug.</p><p>Raz was not the hugging sort, but who turned down a motherly hug from Molly Weasley? Fools that’s who. She let out a quick sob into Molly’s shoulder before she composed herself and pulled away.  </p><p>“I’m really sorry, Mrs. Weasley.”</p><p>“Don’t worry about it now dear.”</p><p>“No I should explain.  After the mugging yesterday-”</p><p>“You were mugged.” Molly gasped.</p><p>“Yes...and confounded</p><p>Molly’s expression grew more horrified.</p><p>“…and obliviated.” Raz added. “I didn’t have any money… and at the Leaky Cauldron they have that challenge-”</p><p>“Merlin’s beard, is that what that smell was?!” Molly blurted out and then she snapped her mouth shut. “Not you dear-”</p><p>“No no...I deserved that.  That ...beer was dreadful. And I’m pretty sure I kept some of it down.” Raz pinched the bridge of her nose. “It incapacitated me. I think Tom was the one who found me and...I gave him Arthur’s card, because he gave it to me after I finished reporting my attack - told me to contact him if I needed anything or remembered anything. Though I’m sure when he said needed...he didn’t mean this.”</p><p>“No, I dare say he didn’t. But...given all you’d been through already - I am glad he did.” Molly stepped back.</p><p>“Again...I am sorry.”</p><p>“Enough of that. You should get washed up and dressed before the rest of my boys wake up, then join us for breakfast.” Molly pointed with her spatula toward the stairs. “Third door on the left for the loo.”</p><p>“Thank you.” Raz smiled as Molly retreated back to the kitchen.  Raz found her suitcase by the couch. The clothes she wore yesterday were nowhere, but she figured Molly either burned them for the smell or was washing them.  She wouldn’t blame her for the former if she had.</p><p>The stairs creaked as she ascended and she slipped into the loo. She made quick work to evacuate her bladder, then hopped into the shower. She used her own soaps and wash cloth she’d bought yesterday and washed her hair thoroughly until she couldn’t even smell the leaky cauldron on her anymore. She brushed her teeth as she conditioned and was ready to get out when a banging on the door scared her.  </p><p>There was an annoyed voice behind that door. “Come on, Ron. Quit playing with your willy!”</p><p>Ron? She mouthed. Ron was what...nine - ten years old.</p><p>“Yeah Ron!”</p><p>“Finish! We gotta wee!”</p><p>Twin voices. Raz rolled her eyes, choosing not to keep them waiting. She turned off the water, pulled the curtain aside reaching for her towel as the door opened.</p><p>She froze.</p><p>They froze.</p><p>“You’re…you’re not Ron.” The eldest one in the center stated dumbfounded. He looked to be in his later teens. His twin brothers who flanked him on either side of him were speechless for all of two seconds.</p><p>“Well spotted, Charlie.”</p><p>“What tipped you off?”</p><p>“Was it her height?”</p><p>“Maybe her hair color?”</p><p>“Perhaps it was her breasts?</p><p>“Or the lack of a willy.”</p><p>Raz licked her lips. There were two ways she could move on from here. Either shriek, get them in trouble and be embarrassed for however long she interacts with them.  Or own it.  </p><p>“If you’re finished. Could you hand me that towel?” She pointed to it and Charlie stepped in to hand it to her. His face getting redder. “Thanks. Shut the door, would you?”</p><p>The door slammed shut.  She listened to the bickering going on just on the other side of it as she dried herself off. Then another voice joined them.</p><p>“Is there really a line for the loo this early?”</p><p>“Yes. Course there is.”</p><p>“Always is. You know how it is Percy.”</p><p>“Fred. George.” Charlie snapped.</p><p>“Though this time’s a bit different.”</p><p>“The kind of difference that makes me want to go back to bed.”</p><p>“You know Fred, I had the same idea. Sleeping sounds really great.”</p><p>“You know whats better? Dreaming. Dreaming of beautiful big round br-”</p><p>“SHUT IT!”</p><p>“What- what is going on?” Percy asked.</p><p>By that time, Raz had thrown on a pair of panties, bra, and her clothes and she opened the door with her hair wrapped in the towel and her suitcase in one hand. Her presence stopped the fighting all four boys were doing. Percy gaped at her.</p><p>“Hello lads.” Raz greeted. “Sorry I took so long. The loo is free.” She said nothing else as she rigidly walked down the stairs, knowing the eldest one was definitely staring at her.</p><p>“Who is that?” Percy’s voice cracked.</p><p>“Careful there Perce.”</p><p>“You’ll break something again talking like that.”</p><p>“Oh shut up, you two. Charlie...who was that- Charlie?” There was banging on the bathroom door again.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Day 2.02: 1st Breakfast</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Raz facepalmed all the way down to the kitchen where she slumped into a chair. “Would have been nice to know the lock doesn’t work.” She said to no one in particular.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The lock doesn’t work.” A child’s voice stated from the other end of the table. It was Ron.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Raz snorted at Ron’s timing. He beamed at being able to get her to laugh. Molly in turn gasped.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh! So sorry about that dear.” She grimaced as she looked toward the stairs. “Did they…” She trailed off. “See?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh full frontal...all of it and for like a full ten seconds.” Raz shrugged. “I wanted the ground to open up and eat me.” She sighed and rested her head in her arms.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s okay.” Ginny’s child hand patted her arm. “My brothers are just dumb.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Raz looked at her. “You know, you’re a cool kid. What’s your name?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ginny.” She stated while swaying from side to side.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well Ginny, I’m Raziel Moore, but you can call me Raz. All the cool kids do.” She held her hand out and shook formally with her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“C-can I call you Raz?” Ron asked, tentative.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Raz grinned and looked down at Ginny. “What do you think? Is your brother, cool?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ginny hummed in thought.  “Yeah. He’s cool.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, I’ll take your word for it. You can call me Raz, good sir, so long as you give me your name too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m Ron.” He jumped forward and held his hand out eagerly. Raz shook it as well.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Um, Miss Raz?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just Raz, Ginny.” Raz corrected.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Raz...why do you talk funny?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why do you talk funny?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t talk funny.” Ginny huffed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No you don’t.” Raz smiled and then leaned back in her chair to look at Molly who was amused by the conversation. “You know how sometimes people from Scotland and Ireland, talk differently?” At Ginny’s nod, she continued. “Those are called accents.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, they’re accents. Ginny.” Ron poked her. “Dummy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey hey… no calling anyone dumb.” Raz tutted. “Not everyone knows everything. Even I don’t know everything.”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ron scrunched his face. “Our Dad knows everything.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh does he?” Raz made a shocked face, winking at Molly who had looked at them. “Well then, I guess I have a lot to learn to catch up to your dad then.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ginny hummed and nodded. “Where does your accent come from?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The accent doesn’t come from anywhere but me. But if what you meant to say was, where I came from to have such an accent?” Raz waited for Ginny’s confirmation. “I come from America. The country borne out of the British colonies. Specifically, my accent is mid-atlantic. But that’s getting in the weeds of it. My accent means I’m American.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’ve never met an American before.” Ron sat down at the table again - but this time right next to Raz. Ginny followed his example</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Be glad that you haven’t met more. Americans can be very rude.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Really?” Ginny asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh-huh.” Raz nodded.  “You’ll have to forgive them the first few times. Many Americans don’t realize they’re being rude. They’re raised with very different standards.” Raz explained. “And cultural customs, and are very brash in how they speak.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then we should count ourselves lucky, Miss Moore here isn’t a rude American.” Molly set two plates full of potatoes, sausages, and bacon on the table. Then a bowl of beans, another plate of grilled black pudding and finally eggs and bread.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I dunno, I think I’ve already been rude. If I have, I’m sorry about it.” Raz met Molly’s gaze. “I really don’t know any better.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Molly smiled. “If you were, you’ve already been forgiven.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks.” Raz mouthed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Set yourself with a plate, dears.” Molly gestured as she leaned over to the living room. “BOYS! GET DOWN HERE- Oh Fred, George.” Molly pulled back to let the twins in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Charlie’s taking an awful long time in the loo.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Absolutely dreadfully long time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You wouldn’t have anything to do with that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Would you Miss?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can’t say that I would.” Raz grinned at them as they filled in to sit. “Hey Ginny, Ron. Are your twin brothers’ cool?” She was serving the youngest a plate and then herself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They shared a look and then grinned mischievously. “No.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Definitely not.” Ron agreed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s that about?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh don’t worry about it.” Raz waved. “Anyway, my name is Raziel Moore. Call me Miss Moore. And you two are?” Here Raziel paid close attention.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m Gred, that’s Forge.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m Forge, that’s Gred.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They said it at the same time, which made it difficult to tell who was who.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She squinted. “Uh huh…” She clicked her tongue and then grinned. “Nice to meet you both.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nice to meet us, she says.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It was a nice greeting she gave.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Stellar first impression too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Probably seared to Charlie’s memory.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’ll be dreaming about it for weeks.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe he’ll stop moping around-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And start chanting More More in his sleep.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Raz snorted, finding that hilarious. Even if it was at her own expense.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She laughed!” They spoke in unison, excited.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh now you’ve done it.” Molly sighed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry, that was just…” She chuckled, covering her mouth. “Clever.” Her shoulders shook.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Another pair of footsteps announced another Weasley’s arrival. It was Percy, he stopped right by Raz’s chair.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I would like to apologi-” His voice cracked and went higher than the rest. He cleared his throat. “Apologize for my brothers’ unscrupulous comments made at your expense. It was terrible of them to treat a guest that way.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kiss-arse.” The twins grumbled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Raz almost didn’t hear because she stiffened when she caught sight of a rather large rat half hanging out of one of Percy’s pockets.  Not nearly as big as the ones she’s seen in New York’s subways but quite close. But of course she knew it wasn’t any old rat. It was Scabbers, otherwise known as Peter Pettigrew.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A million thoughts went through her head until she eventually settled on, <em>Not now</em>. Pettigrew was a problem for another day. Preferably when she was more prepared. Instead she focused on Percy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re apologizing for them?” Raz raised a brow. “I think you should let them apologize on their own. Don’t take the blame for someone else’s shortcomings. Anyway, I’m Raziel Moore.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It is a pleasure to meet you, Miss Moore.” Percy responded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Percy, be a dear and get your father.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes mother.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>One last pair of footsteps came down the stairs. Slower, hesitating before they shuffled quickly.  Charlie Weasley kept his head ducked as he passed her and sat the furthest he could be. The tops of his cheekbones were flushed and he didn’t dare look at her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Arthur and Percy entered the kitchen shortly after.  The rest of the plates were served.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Miss Moore, I trust you slept well.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh yes. Thank you for letting me crash on your couch.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Crash?” Arthur squinted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Americanism. Sorry it means you let me sleep a…” Raz looked at Ron and Ginny and corrected her terminology. “A temporary condition off. I appreciate it. Really.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Molly tilted her head trying to make sense of that phrase.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Raz didn’t feel like being asked more on that, and stuffed her mouth with the blood pudding - knowing she wasn’t going to like it but not about to say that to Molly who made a lovely spread. She lapsed into silence as the family talked about the expected day. Arthur would be going off to work after breakfast. Charlie, Fred, George, and Percy were expected to take care of the back garden. Molly wouldn’t be going over lessons with Ron and Ginny until later in the day.  It was a lovely morning, watching the family interact as she sat back. At least until Ginny poked her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Raz, are you going to leave with Dad?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh...uh.” Raz looked at Molly first, then Arthur for help. Neither of their expressions were telling. “I think it’s probably best I should.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aww…” Ron’s shoulder slumped.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Won’t you stay, please?” Ginny asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uhh…” Raz grimaced as Ginny contorted her lips and eyes to plead. “Come on kid, who can say no to that face…” Ron joined in. “Not you too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What about us?” Fred and George chimed in. Raz deadpanned at them. “I can say no to you two easy.” They made offended noises, and Charlie snorted and chuckled at the other end. His gaze lifted up to meet hers before ducking back down.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright…” Raz faced Ron and Ginny. “It’s really dependent on your parents. But I do have things I have to do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Like what?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well...I have to go exchange my muggle money.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Muggle money?” Arthur sat up straighter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I was staying in a muggle hotel.” Raz smoothly lied.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You were?” His eyes gleamed with interest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Arthur…” Molly admonished around a chew.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I mean, why couldn’t you return to the hotel last night?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah...well.” Raz bit the inside of her cheek. “They gave my room away. Muggle hotels frequently overbook and if you’re not there at the precise check in, they give away your room.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How do they ever get any business if they do that?” Arthur followed up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Arthur.” Molly warned, trying to keep her husband on point.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Anyway, I went back to the Leaky with hope to go exchange my money but they were already closed. And when that failed…” Raz took a sip of the tea to indicate she went drinking. “Then I saw the challenge board and decided to test my constitution - to negligible effects.” Raz explained. “And the Muggles in the area were upset about something - probably a football game. So it wasn’t exactly safe to go walking about - hence...the state you found me in.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That certainly explains it. Doesn’t it, Molly?” Arthur turned to his wife, his brows rose. As though there had been doubt about what happened.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It certainly does.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Raz looked between them, suspicious. But whatever marital cues they were giving each other, she wasn’t picking up on them. Or she was and she was reading way too far into them. So she decided not to say anything. “So anyway...Ginny. Thats why I have to go exchange my money so I can get a room for the night while I…” She trailed off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“While you what?” Molly asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Crap...she hadn’t told Arthur this bit. He just thought she was visiting and would eventually go back to America.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh...while I look for a job.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A job?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And a residence.” Raz grimaced as Arthur’s brows disappeared into the wisps of his hair.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Arthur.” Molly gestured for him to meet in the other room. “If you’ll excuse us.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Raz nodded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So you’re staying?” Ginny asked, her original question had been ignored.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah...well staying in England - yes. Maybe not here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ginny pouted briefly, thought about it and then smiled. “Okay. Then you can visit.” She stated with a firm nod of her head as though that settled it and she had the deciding vote.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay…” She laughed, and continued eating.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fred and George were done with breakfast, dodging out of the kitchen and out the backdoor quickly. Percy rose to yell at them for not even offering to do the dishes, the backdoor swung close behind him.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It left Raz with the youngest and Charlie, who felt her gaze on him. She openly stared, watching as his cheeks grew redder and darker until he stood up and left as well.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your brothers are funny.” Raz cackled to Ginny and Ron who looked at each other confused before shrugging.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Molly came back without Arthur, though Raz heard a pop indicating Arthur had apparated.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Now then, Ron, Ginny go off and play. I have to speak with our guest.” Molly sat down at the table once they left.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Arthur left?” Raz pressed her hands between her thighs and rocked forward.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, he’s got a court appointment in an hour.” Molly explained.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Raz nodded, looking down at her empty plate. She sucked in a breath and swallowed her pride. “Could I borrow a pinch of floo powder?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course you can.” Molly patted her arm. “But...before you go. I want to know what your plan is.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My plan?” Raz chuckled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can’t honestly be thinking of renting a room at the Leaky until you’re settled in a position?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah that was basically my plan.” Raz sighed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That is a very expensive bill.” Molly tutted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Raz snorted. “Scuse my Americanism, Mrs. Weasley, but...yeah no shit.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Molly laughed. “You Americans are so very blunt.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It adds to our charm.” Raz deadpanned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Molly giggled good naturedly and sighed. “That aside, you’re more than welcome to stay here until you’re settled.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You would let a complete stranger into your home...around your kids?” Raz’s mouth dropped open. “For an extended amount of time?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The fact you thought of that, means I know I can trust you’ll be on your best behaviour.” Molly rose. “You were very good with Ron and Ginny and I could use another set of hands around here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Raz wheezed with laughter and hunched forward over her plate. “I will definitely earn my keep, as it were.” Raz stood. “Starting with the dishes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh dear-no-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah-ah.” Raz tutted and held her palms open wide. “I’ll take care of it.” She began picking up the dishes. Most of the food was gone, except for a few bits of bread and potatoes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Give those to the owls.” Molly stated as she moved around the kitchen toward what looked like a wash basin. She flicked her wand wordlessly and the clothes there began scrubbing themselves.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Raz desperately wanted to know what that spell was. She turned toward the open window where the owls were perched and set the plate of food there. The owls, the old one she knew to be named Errol, had trouble getting to the plate so she raised a piece of bread up. The owl ate while she pet him gently. She’d always wanted her own owl growing up. If she got a position somewhere, she very well could get one now.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This is a rather slow build story by the way.  </p><p>Also I read everyone's comments! Thank you so much for expressing your enjoyment this story.  I greatly appreciate it.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Day 2.03: Gratitude</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Back to the plates she’d collected, she turned on the sink. With a scrub, she began washing by hand. It was a simple task, one that allowed for her eyes to glaze over  as she mechanically went through the motions, leaving her brain to think up solutions.</p><p>“What are you doing?” Molly pulled her out of it too quickly.</p><p>Raz snapped aware and looked down then at Molly. “Washing dishes?”</p><p>“The Muggle way?”</p><p>Raz blinked. “I uh… grew up around muggles for most of my life.” Raz continued washing. “We had to blend in and couldn’t risk discovery. So my mother never taught me a lot of domestic charms when doing it by hand was just more convenient.”</p><p>Molly made a disbelieving sound and flapped her mouth open and closed. “Well...then get your wand. I think it’s been long overdue you learned how to cast a Scrubbing charm or two.”</p><p>Molly had her point her wand at a halfway rusted dusty cauldron.  The spell she first cast was Evanesco, followed by Tergeo and Scourgify.  Spells that were vaguely familiar, with easy mental visualizations.  She repeated Molly and cast it the first time with her left hand. Evanesco emptied the container, tergeo siphoned off dust and rust off the inner surface, and finally scourgify produced cleansing bubbles.  Though for Raz the bubbles looked more like foam from a scrubbing bubbles spray she used to use and a dish detergent. The bubbles oozed, leaving behind a semi clean surface.  </p><p>“Aguamenti.” Molly demonstrated with a soft flick and a spray of water rinsed the cauldron down and then she cast Evanesco again. It was a process, but so was manually washing dishes. “Now then, you’ve got the basics - yes?”</p><p>“Yeap.” Raz nodded, and then she targeted the plates. The bowls were easy, it was the plates with food still on them. So she emptied the plates into the bowls and cast Evanesco. The bowl rattled on the counter from the force.</p><p>“Careful there, a little less power in the spells - else you’ll shatter.” Molly advised.</p><p>“Sorry.” Raz switched her wand to her right hand instead. The move had Molly’s brows furrowed, until Raz cast again. The second bowl didn’t rattle as it emptied. She cast tergeo and then scourgify quickly.  She was about to cast aguamenti - when Molly stopped her.</p><p>“Dear...your hand is shaking.” Molly frowned.</p><p>“What?” Raz looked to her right hand and noticed it.  It shook because of the same cramp that came over it yesterday.  Her arm had been sore when she woke up but now the use of magic was making it ache. “Oh...my hand is cramping.” She brushed it off, switching wand hands again and shaking her right out.</p><p>“Allow me?” Molly held her hand out. Raz shrugged and let her grab it, stretching the fingers out and having it palm up. Her fingers dug deep as she massaged Raz’s palm, then down to her wrist. “Just as I thought.”</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“Have you used magic quite more than normally recently?”</p><p>Considering yesterday was the first time she’d ever cast magic...yes. “Yeah a little more than usual.”</p><p>Molly huffed. “Young people these days.” Molly dropped her hand and bustled toward a bookshelf where she pulled a small container down. “Always thinking they’re invincible.” She opened the jar and pointed at the kitchen table. “Sit.”</p><p>Raz did as ordered and Molly dipped her finger in for a dime size amount of what looked like lotion. She dabbed it on Raz’s hands, closed the jar and then began rubbing it into her hands. Whatever it was, it was calming - relaxing and soothing to the soreness.</p><p>“Try not to overextend your magic, Miss Moore. Arthur will never let me hear the end of it.” Molly tutted.</p><p>“Woah.” Raz stretched out her fingers. The cramp was gone and the faint soreness dispersed. Her arms were still sore and she was exhausted still like yesterday after doing all those spells - but it wasn’t a muscle exhaustion. More like an energy one, but she was still mentally aware and awake - if a bit sleep deprived. “Thanks…”</p><p>“Now then, I think that’s enough magic for you today.”</p><p>“Yeah, probably for the best.” Raz gave a sheepish smile and spotted a copy of the day’s Daily Prophet. “I’ll start looking at the postings, if that’s alright?”</p><p>“Of course.” Molly rose and left her to it while she finished cleaning up the kitchen.</p><p>Raz read the news. There had been an altercation with the rioting muggles in downtown London not far from the Leaky. There was news about a wandering herd of Unicorns that nearly roamed past the borders of a reserve in the London green belt.  More cauldron advice, a weekly useful spell that she slotted away in her memory to try later.  She by-passed the adverts, gaze glazing over the horoscopes, and then she eyed the postings.</p><p>They were mostly all the same ones from yesterday with a few new ones. She got a pen from her suitcase and circled the ones she’d apply to. There was a position open in the Ministry - but it was for Wizengamot Administration Services. It expressed “must have expert command of the stenography charm”.  She counted that one as out but perhaps they might teach her the charm, she was a quick study.  Or she was hoping so.</p><p>Gambol and Japes were looking to hire a sales attendant in Diagon Alley.  </p><p>The same posting for the governess to an adult was present. She wrote down ‘last resort’ next to that one.  </p><p>There was an ad for a kneazle sitter, but she seriously doubted that was a viable long term option. But she circled it.</p><p>A model was needed for Twilfitt and Tattings, and they wanted applicants to apply in person. Now that one rose a brow. She circled it with a ‘maybe?’</p><p>She asked Molly for a few bits of parchment and scrolls and then began writing up her CV with a cover letter for each.</p><p>Molly had left the kitchen once it was cleaned and returned with a woven basket full of clothes. More wash, the ones she’d done she flicked and out they went to hang from a clothesline in the sun.</p><p>Raz asked Molly for her help making sure her CVs looked good. She had to lie about when she attended each university and had each post, but she highly doubted they would question it. Not for a simple sales attendant. Maybe for the Ministry position which definitely solidified how she would not apply for that one. With a quick check of her spelling, she bundled each scroll up and Molly had Errol take them off. When he returned she’d send the others, while Raz said she was going to check on the little ones.</p><p>“You’re really quite good with children.” Molly commented as Raz pocketed her wand and grabbed a hairtie from her suitcase.</p><p>“Am I?  That’s good...considering I had five nieces and nephews about Ron and Ginny’s age.” She beamed up at Molly, but frowned upon seeing the Weasley matriarch had frozen.</p><p>“Had?” Molly whispered with a soft tentative voice.</p><p>Raz blinked the sudden tears away and nodded as Molly made a heartbroken sound. She looked about to envelop her in a hug again but Raz stepped to the back door. “Anyway, I’ll go enjoy the sun now, if you don’t mind.”</p><p>“Of course not.”  Molly swallowed.</p><p>Raz stepped out, fleeing not Molly but the emotions and loss she didn’t want to dwell on.</p><p>Summer in England was fairly temperate to what she was used to, but she could still imagine sweating in thirty-one degrees celsius if she wasn’t careful.</p><p>Hair tied up she looked around the Burrow’s gated garden.  Yard birds fled from the distant sounds of the boys traipsing about, spinning in place and chucking wrinkly green and brown leather creatures with roots and leaves on their head.</p><p>Gnomes! She smiled and started when one of them yelled “Gerroff me!" as one of the twins swung it.</p><p>“Nice one Fred! That one nearly cleared the hill!”</p><p>“Beat that, Perce!” Fred declared proudly as Percy was wrangling his own bundle of gnomes, all wriggling as he swung back and forth and tossed. It didn’t clear over the hill but it got the job done.</p><p>“Pitiful.” The twins shook their heads.</p><p>Raz paid little attention to them as she spied Ron and Ginny also among the pests. Ginny was running after one agile gnome before tackling it down. Ron however was walking around the perimeter of the yard, kicking into the bushes lazily.</p><p>She didn’t spot Charlie immediately until she began approaching the boys. Charlie was on the other side of the garden wall, speaking with a girl with purple streaked hair. She didn’t recognize them, not immediately anyway.</p><p>“Who is that?”</p><p>“That’s Nymphadora, one of Charlie’s classmates. They’re in the same year but different houses.” Percy explained.</p><p>“Huh.” Raz shrugged and tracked down Ginny to ask her how to help with the degnoming. Ginny grinned wide and proud as she dispensed with instructions of how to aggravate the gnomes into running and then catching. She caught one quickly and spun it in one arm  before launching it over the wall.  She did this a few times, the twins remarked she had a hell of a throw and competed with her instead of Percy. They attributed points for how far they could throw them.</p><p>Eventually Charlie rejoined them, along with his friend. They wrangled some gnomes and sent them flying farther than any of them had been able to and managed to knock them into each other.</p><p>“Now you’re just showing off.” Percy groaned.</p><p>Raz gave Charlie and his female friend an unimpressed look.  Only his friend’s hair was now a vibrant neon green.</p><p>“Wotcher.” The older teen girl greeted her and gave a wide wave.</p><p>“We’ve not met….” She stared at her hair openly.  “Could have swore you had purple hair a moment ago.”</p><p>The teen girl smiled and her hair faded to the same purple streaks from earlier. “You mean like this?”</p><p>She didn’t react, just nodded her head unfazed by the shift. This perturbed her. “Sorry, what’s your name?” Raz asked, already feeling like she knew the name but wanted clarification.</p><p>“Miss Moore, this is Tonks.” Charlie introduced, but didn’t look at Raz. “Tonks, Miss Moore.”</p><p>“Pleasure...although you can call me Raz.” Raz added.</p><p>“Noted, Raz.” Tonks grinned. “I hear Charlie caught you bum naked this morning?”</p><p>Raz snickered, “Interesting first conversation choice.”</p><p>“Dora, I told you that in confidence!” Charlie exasperated.</p><p>“Please...I’ve known your family a day, and I can already tell your twin brothers are likely to never shut up about it.” Raz deadpanned.</p><p>“Never.” The twins shouted in confirmation.</p><p>“And I’ve known the Weasleys long enough to confirm, you are quite right about that, Raz.” Tonks’s grin grew wider and pleased.</p><p>“Is...is that what happened? Charlie?!” Percy’s mouth flailed open.</p><p>Raz cackled at the range of curiosity, disappointment, and then unabashed horror flashed across Percy’s face. “Relax there, Percy. I’m not mad. Accidents happen. Though hopefully this means Charlie now understands the importance of waiting for confirmation that you can enter an occupied bathroom?”</p><p>“More like it’s encouragement he won’t wait. Not if he gets rewarded with a good long look.” Tonks sniggered.</p><p>Charlie scowled and then smirked. “Oh like you did with the Hufflepuff Quidditch Team?”</p><p>“That was an honest mistake there, Chuckie.” Tonks shot back.</p><p>“You sure, Dora? I recall you talking up a storm about finally seeing what’s her name…”</p><p>Tonks launched herself at Charlie, smacking his arm. He backed down while laughing.</p><p>Raz kept her distance, enjoying the display as Tonks and Charlie broke down into a series of playful taunts and punches.</p><p>There were only a few more gnomes poking out of their holes, so Raz left it for them to complete, retreating back to inside the Burrow and the relative coolness.  She’d begun sweating down her back and that same exhaustion was back accompanied by an ache from physical strain. She needed a good long nap if Molly would let her. Course she didn’t get to ask because as soon as she sat down on the couch, she was out.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>BTw, as always I read everyone's comments and loved them!  Thank you for the support!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>